


From This Moment On

by StarsOnThursday



Series: Pikelavar Week [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Camping, Curses, Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pikelavar week, Pining, Secrets, Sharing a Bed, Unrequited Love, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsOnThursday/pseuds/StarsOnThursday
Summary: "From this moment on," The witch began, threading their voice through with magic. "You will never be free of the feelings you hold. Your love will not be returned."Meklavar seeks the help of a witch to get rid of the feelings she has for the overly-friendly smuggler, Pike, only to find herself cursed instead. Things only get worse when she goes on a quest to reverse the curse, and Pike decides he wants to join her.





	1. The Witch

**Author's Note:**

> so this one kinda spiralled out of control. i only had a month to make all the things i wanted to make and i couldn't do it in time, so i've decided to make this a multichapter fic instead of abandoning it altogether! (the 'secrets' part of this prompt will come in in later chapters, hope that's okay!)
> 
> this is an entry for day two of pikelavar week! (you can find all the info for it here: https://defendersofaurita.tumblr.com/post/185625778262/in-honor-of-the-one-year-anniversary-since-the )
> 
> a quick warning for those who find it squicky: there's some brief strangulation in this first chap! nothing graphic, but it's there, so here's your chance to back out if that upsets you. otherwise, enjoy! :)

Somewhere in the mountainlands of Aurita, hidden amongst the trees, there existed a witch. They didn't live there; it wasn't their home. It was simply a place in which they existed.

On occassion, the witch would trade spells and blessing and curses to mortals in exchange for artifacts and valuables. Never money, though. The witch had no use for mortal money. And on occassion, there were mortals who felt entitled to the witch's services, and those were the ones the witch loved to punish.

The witch _loathed_ insolence.

Insolence was a display of weakness, of arrogance, and of fearlessness, and the witch would not stand for it. They had encountered many awful, insolent mortals and all of them had paid a price for their hubris.

One such mortal was a dwarf, short even for her kind, weilding an axe and a handful of dull, grey feathers.

"Please," She'd said. "I need your help."

Over the years, the witch had grown weary of mortals and their plights and their stories. They had been fascinating, years and years ago, but then they had gotten boring, the same story over and over again. The same request. The same result.

"What would you need from me?" The witch had asked, and they watched as all the blood left the young dwarf's face.

"I'm in love," She said. "And I need to be free of it."

"I was under the impression love was something mortals celebrated." The witch sneered. The dwarf met their eyes and didn't look away, and the witch ground their teeth.

"Only when that love is returned." The young dwarf said.

"What will you give me in exchange?" The witch asked.

"I've brought these," The dwarf held out her hand, and stepped forward into the house. "They're from the prettiest doves in my village, and-"

The witch cut them off with a laugh.

"I don't think so," They said. "That's not nearly valuable enough, not for the spell you're asking for."

The witch watched the dwarf's face fall. She gripped the feathers so hard in her hand that her knuckles turned white. The witch laughed again.

"Please, you have to-" The dwarf started, but the witch let out a low, angry hiss.

"I don't _have_ to do anything!" They shouted, voice sharp and high, echoing around the room. They stepped forward and wrapped their fingers, long and thin, around the dwarf's throat. "You dare to presume you can tell me what to do! You come here, with your handful of _filth_ , you disrespect me, and then tell me I _have_ to help you! Despicable!"

The young dwarf was watching them, eyes bulging, panic clear in the way she bared her teeth. The witch squeezed tighter.

"From this moment on," The witch began, threading their voice through with magic. "You will never be free of the feelings you hold. You will suffer with them for the rest of your life, and you will suffer alone. Your love will not be returned. Do not seek me out again."


	2. The Market

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meklavar Has A Bad Day: the fic

When Meklavar woke up the next morning, she expected to find herself still in the witch's cabin, looking up at the rotting wood ceiling. Instead, she was in her home, fully dressed, with everything the way it had been before she'd gone, right down to the coat draped across one of her chairs, exactly where she had left it, almost as if it had been preserved in time while she'd been gone.

She still loved Pike. That was the same, too. She'd gone on a journey to move forward from him, only to find herself stuck in the exact same place she'd been before. There was a rock stuck in her chest where her heart was supposed to be and it _hurt._ She lifted a hand to touch the skin over it, and found it cold.

There wasn't much point in getting out of bed. She lay prone until her stomach was screaming at her, and the sun was high up in the sky, before she decided it was worth getting up. She made her way over to her hearth, and checked the basket where she kept her easier-to-make food. There were only a handful of eggs in there. Meklavar had taken all of her food and supplies with her as she went on her journey to the mountains, expecting it to take much longer.

She realised, then, that her bag hadn't been sent back to the house with her. The witch had kept it, along with all the _filthy_ feathers they said they hadn't wanted in the first place. Meklavar thought of their face, of their nasty, cruel smile, and the feeling of their fingers around her neck and, with a yell, she threw the eggs on the ground, watching as they splattered across the floor.

\-----

The market in the city square happened every two days; it was the way most of the farmers in the city made their money. It was a place a lot of people took their children, and where they wore their nicer clothes. You were never sure who you'd meet at the market, after all. Lots of different colours, greens and blues and reds and yellows. Sometimes, even pinks and purples. There was always the smell of cooking meat and vegetables wafting in the air. Usually Meklavar enjoyed that, but right then it made her feel a little faint.

Rows and rows of stalls, manned by various types of people, all selling various types of things. Of course, that meant that sometimes the sellers (and buyers) were merchants who sold things that weren't really theirs to sell.

Merchants like Pike.

Meklavar had been avoiding him since she turned up. There was a good chance he was looking for her; she liked to visit him, when he was running his stall. She'd sit on the table and pretend she didn't know what he was doing was illegal, and watch him charm his customers. And herself, along with them. Then again, he probably didn't know she was back, so he probably wasn't looking for her at all. He probably had one of the girls he picked up on his travels with him. Maybe she was sat on his table, helping him sell his stolen goods. Maybe she was sat on his lap. No, Meklavar would prefer to avoid Pike's stall.

Instead, she hung about the food stalls, and watched the farmers show off their wares, her mouth watering. She approached one she'd been buying from for years.

"I've been a very loyal customer. I've been buying from you for years. It just so happens that-"

"I can't give you any free food, sorry,"

"Please. A witch took all of my money."

"Listen, I'm sorry you've had some bad luck, but you'll be fine. I can't help you."

She wandered the stalls until her feet hurt, but everyone she went to sent her away. And while part of her understood, a larger, angrier, hungrier part was furious that they were willing to let her starve. She ended up visiting Pike after all. She was sick of dealing with the food merchants, and she found herself craving the sight a familiar, friendly face.

"Meklavar!" He shouted, when he caught sight of her, and thankfully there were no long-legged pretty girls with him. He bounced up on his heels, his grin stretching his face in half, and Meklavar couldn't help but smile back.

She'd spent weeks up in the mountains, chasing the witch, and somehow she could still remember every detail of Pike's face. She could remember the exact shade of his eyes, and the slope of his nose. Yet every time she saw him, it was like she was seeing him for the very first time again. Her chest and her stomach both clenched tight, as she watched him wave her over.

"You're back!" He said, when she got close enough. His ears were perked, and Meklavar had to fight the urge to run her fingertips over their fur. "Tell me all about your mountain adventures!"

"I-" Meklavar started, and ran a hand through her hair. She had no idea how she was supposed to tell Pike about what had happened, without telling him she loved him.

"Do you have any money I can borrow?" She blurted out instead. "The witch took all of mine, and now I can't buy any food."

Pike frowned, and looked over at the vendors selling food.

"You've been spending money here for years. Surely the vendors will help you out?"

"Apparently not," Meklavar said. "No one wanted to lose the money. Harvest season isn't for a long while yet, so-"

"Harvest season," Pike snorted, glaring over at the vendors. He pulled a bag of coins out from under his table, and hopped over the side. "Some people are so selfish went it comes to money."

Meklavar very deliberately did not point out the table full of stolen goods.

"Mind my stall for me," He said, as he pushed her lightly towards the table. "I'll get you some food. Then you're going to tell me all about the mountains."

He turned on his heel and sped away before she could answer, so she sat down in his chair and watched the patrons walk passed. She didn't know what he expected her to do if someone wanted to buy something. She didn't know his prices, or have his charm.

"Excuse me," Came a voice from behind the stall. "But I was standing nearby you before, and I heard you say a witch took your money?"

Meklavar froze. She looked over at the stranger but he was wearing a hood and it cast such a large shadow, she couldn't make out any features at all.

"Who are you?" She demanded, voice hard.

"You've been cursed, haven't you?" The stranger asked, and Meklavar could almost feel herself get pale. The world spun around her and when she spoke her voice was weak and breathless:

"How did you know?"

"I know someone who can help. She's a cursebreaker, the very best at it, and she'd be willing to help." The stranger said, voice soft. He didn't seem to notice her state, as he snuck a hand into his robe and pulled out a weathered old piece of parchment.

"She lives in Aska," The stranger said, as he laid the parchment down on the table in front of her, and pointed out a small village, decorated with a little ribbon proclaiming it ASKA. "It's not far from here, less than twenty moons."

"What would she want from me?" Meklavar asked. She couldn't make the mistake of bringing a handful of feathers and hoping for pity again.

"She won't ask you for anything." The stranger said, and he lifted his head enough that Meklavar could see him smiling. His teeth were white, surprisingly white for a man stood in the market of a small city.

"This is too good to be true," Meklavar said, as she held the parchment out for the man to take back. He stepped a few paces back however, and held his hands out in front of him.

"Think on it," He said. "It won't harm you just to consider it."

"I-"

"Meklavar!"

Pike's voice sounded above Meklavar's own, and her head snapped to the side to see him carrying two bowls of stew.

"The vendors here are awful," He said. "The man who sold me this food made me buy the bowls, too. It's okay, though. Because I took half his silverware while he wasn't looking."

Meklavar looked around her, but she couldn't see the stranger anywhere. She couldn’t even see him walking away in any direction. He was gone, like he'd never been stood there in front of her in the first place. She looked down at the map.

"Pike, did you see a man in a hood and cloak anywhere around here?" She asked, as he jumped over the table, and set the bowls down.

"No," Pike said, frowning. "Why? Did someone take something?"

"No," Meklavar rolled her eyes, as Pike began to pore over his inventory. "And all of this is stolen anyway. I just had a strange conversation."

"I didn't steal anything," Pike said, as he dropped about two pounds worth of silverware down on the table. "I'm reappropriating all of this, to people who will appreciate them. And speaking of strange conversations,"

"You want to know about the witch." Meklavar sighed, resigned.

"Yes. Eat your food." Pike said, and he settled down onto the floor next to her chair, looking up at her as he shovelled stew into his mouth.

Meklavar ate. And between mouthfuls she told Pike everything that had happened, interrupted only when a customer came to the stall. She told Pike about her adventures on the mountain, and all the creatures she'd fought. She told him about the witch, and their hut, and their anger. She told him about the curse. She did not, however, tell him the reason she'd gone in the first place.

"You've been cursed?" He asked, slowly, his empty bowl long forgotten on the ground next to him. Meklavar nodded.

"The witch didn't appreciate my gift," She said. "And then I got desperate, and I think I shouted, and apparently that was enough for them to curse me."

"You didn't do anything!" Pike shouted suddenly, as he shot up to stand on his feet. The base of his tail was puffed up. "So now you have to live the rest of your life-" He stopped, the wind taken out of his sails for just a second. "What was the curse?"

"The stranger from before," Meklavar said quickly, looking away from Pike. "Gave me a map. He said it lead to a cursebreaker in Aska. I think I should go."

Pike's ears flattened, and he looked down at her, brows furrowed.

"You think you should _go?"_ He asked, incredulous. "Mek-"

"I don't trust it either," She said. "But I don't have much other choice."

"Is it that bad?" He asked, voice soft.

"It's a _curse."_ Meklavar replied. Pike sighed, his shoulders drooping. Meklavar looked at the way his ears flattened against his head and tried to ignore the way her chest ached.

"Let me go with you." Pike said, surging forward and gripping her shoulders. The sudden movement had her reeling and she grasped his forearms to keep herself steady.

"I don't think-" Meklavar started, but he shook her, his fingers digging into her skin.

"A witch took everything from you," He told her. "Do you even have fresh clothes?" She opened her mouth to reply, but he plowed on. "Plus, I'm a decent fighter. I can protect you."

"I can fight." Meklavar told him, and he rolled his eyes.

"I never said you couldn't. But unless you have your axe hidden under your undershirt, I'm going to guess the witch took that too."

"Maybe," Meklavar said.

"Meklavar," Pike said, again. "Let me come with you."

Meklavar looked at the empty bowl he'd bought for her, at the ridiculous amount of stolen silverware, and then back at Pike. His eyes were so beautiful, the deepest blue Meklavar had ever seen. Her chest hurt.

"Okay," She said, quietly. "But promise me you won't ask about the curse."

"But I-"

_"Pike,"_ She started, her voice strained. "You have to promise."

"Fine," Pike sighed. "I promise I won't ask about your curse."

\-----

Melavar stayed at Pike's house that night. He let her use his bath, and eat his food, and he even borrowed some of his sister's clothes, until she could afford to buy new ones again.

"You didn't have to do this," She said, as he settled down on his makeshift bed on the floor.

"Nonsense," He replied. "You wanted to leave as soon as possible, and its not like that gives you time to work on the farm. If it makes you feel better, think of this like a loan."

"It is a loan." Meklavar said.

"Okay," Pike told her, as he closed his eyes and settled underneath his furs. He was smiling. "Pay me back whenever you can."

He fell asleep much faster than her, despite being on the floor. He'd given Meklavar his bed, though all she wanted to do was walk across the floor and curl up beside him. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, and share his body heat and hold him. She wondered if he'd purr. She wondered if maybe he'd run a hand up her thigh and push her dress up so he could-

She shoved her face into the furs she was lying on, and tried to block him out completely. It was difficult, though, when she was in his bed and literally surrounded by him. Her chest hurt.

Meklavar wasn't sure when she'd fallen asleep, but when she woke up the sun had already risen and Pike was sleeping on his front, his limbs stretched out in ridiculous positions and his blankets shoved all the way across the room, somehow.

The desire to touch him was back. She thought about what he'd do if she ran a finger down his spine, or kissed the top of his head. He might enjoy it. Or he might be disgusted. Either way, she wouldn't dare.

Instead, she got up and padded over to the bag Pike had prepared. He'd gone to the effort of buying them both food that wouldn't easily perish, as well as two flasks of fresh water from the town well and he'd even gotten hold of a few outfits for her. Though if those were his sister's, or ones he was "reappropriating", she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

He was putting in effort for her that she in no way deserved. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. She was taking advantage, really, letting him do so much when she was trying to erase all the feelings she had for him.

As quietly as she could, she picked the bag up and made her way out of the door. It was a loan. She'd pay him back when she could, when she got back from her quest and went back to work in the field.

Pike's horse stood tethered to the house in his pen, his saddle over in the corner, propped up and ready to be attached. Meklavar let the horse sniff her and go back to lazily chewing hay before she made her way over to the saddle, and began to strap the bag to it.

"Getting a head start?" Meklavar jerked upwards as she heard Pike's voice behind her, and the horse huffed at her loudly in protest.

"When did you wake up?" She asked, as she turned around. Pike was half-bent over the fence of the pen, with a grin on his face. He loved scaring her. Smug bastard. Meklavar crossed her arms over her chest.

"I heard you moving around," He told her, and reached up to tap a claw to his ear. "Superior senses, remember?"

"Ah," Meklavar said. "I forgot about that."

"Well, it doesn't matter," Pike hopped down off the fence and then stretched, his arms raised high and pulling up his shirt, until his stomach was exposed. Meklavar checked the bag was tied properly to the saddle. And once again, for good measure. "I'm up now. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," Meklavar said. "Are you?"

"Absolutely," He said. "I'm excited."

"Remember, you promised-"

"I won't ask about the curse," Pike waved his hand at her, and looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Though it's going to eat at me."

"You'll just have to deal with it." Meklavar said, lifting the saddle, as Pike hummed noncommittally at her. He grabbed the other side and together they got it attached to the horse, and then Pike was helping her get up and swinging his leg over and it was too late to change her mind.

With a deep breath, she grabbed the reigns and they were off, leaving the city behind them.


	3. The Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please accept this humble offering

Meklavar was sure the forest was breathtaking. She could see the vibrant green of the leaves on trees and bushes, and there was a stream running parallel to the trail. The sunlight came down through the leaves and shone on the ground, but Meklavar found herself unable to enjoy any of it.

Pike had decided, only a few hours into their journey, to pull Meklavar so close into his body that she could feel his warmth all the way through their clothes. She was aware of his every breath, and it distracted her so much that she had stopped dead in the middle of the trail or veered off course more times than she was comfortable admitting.

She wanted nothing more than to push back into him, and have him grip her hips and her thighs and press kisses to her shoulders.

It was awful. She was sure her face was going to be flushed permanently if she stayed on the horse much longer.

"Are you alright?" Pike asked, voice low. With him pressed to her back the way he was, she could feel the words vibrating in his chest and she grit her teeth against a shudder. "Are you sick?"

"'M not sick," Meklavar mumbled, and her voice was rougher than she wanted it to be. Pike moved without warning, his arm wrapping around her body so he could press his hand to her forehead. Meklavar took in a sharp breath. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"Your face is really hot," He said, as he dropped his hand.

"I'm not sick," Meklavar said again, louder and clearer. Behind her, Pike gave a heavy sigh.

"If you say so," He said. "But let me know when you're about to faint or whatever, so I can be ready for it."

"I won't faint," Meklavar told him. "I'm just hot."

"Should we take a break?" Pike asked, with a sigh. Without waiting for an answer, he reached forward, Meklavar bracketed in between his arms, and took hold of the reigns, pulling them until the horse stopped. On one hand, Meklavar was glad to be rid of the nuisance that was Pike's body heat. On the other, she missed it the second it was gone.

She swung her leg over the saddle just as Pike threw himself down on the ground, his limbs splayed dramatically on the dirt trail. Meklavar jumped down to sit next to him, but as she moved one of the bag attached to the horse's saddle jingled with a metallic sound.

"What's that?" She asked. "Coins?"

"Nah," Pike started. _"That_ bag is filled with a certain bastard's silverware."

"You brought that?" Meklavar asked, opening the mouth of the bag. True to Pike's word, it was filled with shiny forks and knives, all crammed together.

"I thought I could sell them on later. They're not actually silver but if I polish them enough..."

"Good luck with that," Meklavar said, as she closed the bag back up and plopped herself down on the ground next to Pike, having to avoid his spread arms and legs as she did so. "I don't think anyone's gonna be fooled."

"Spoilsport." Pike said, and then he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the dirt.

The forest would never be as beautiful as Pike was then, the sun falling in shapes over his face, lighting up his warm complexion. He was a walking daydream, plucked right from Meklavar's wildest fantasies and made flesh. Her eyes traced the bump of his Adam's apple, watched the rise and fall of his chest. She imagined what his skin would feel like on her fingertips. Then, before she could do anything stupid, she tore her eyes away.

"What's your horse's name, by the way?" She asked, looking resolutely forward. Below her, she heard Pike stir, though she didn't turn to look.

"He doesn't have one," Pike said. His shoulder bumped Meklavar's as he sat up, and he gave a quick apology and rested his hand there instead. "I only got him a little while ago. Why don't you name him?"

"How about Rover?" She asked. Pike hummed.

"Rover?"

"You don't like it?"

"Rover's fine," He said, his hand squeezing her shoulder. Her whole body felt cold, except for where her body met his. "Just not a very common name."

Their break didn't last long, just long enough for Pike to grow restless again and then they were off. Meklavar insisted they switch places, with Pike at the front, so she didn't have to deal with him pressed up against her back. Also, it was nice to have an excuse to put her hands on his waist. She did it once, let them stay there for just a few seconds, and then was too nervous to do it again.

Night came a lot faster than she thought it would, and before long they were forced to stop again, because it was too dark to see much further into the forest, even with Pike's superior eyesight. Together, they set up a tent as far away from the trail as they dared. Pike fed Rover while Meklavar started a fire and soon, they were huddled together, enjoying the warmth.

"You know you didn't have to come with me," Meklavar said, as she watched Pike lean in far too close to the fire for her comfort. "I'm not saying I'm not grateful-"

"I'm not leaving." He interrupted her quietly but firmly. His eyes were closed, and the orange light of the fire lit his face up, and he almost looked like he was glowing.

"What?" Meklavar asked.

"I'm just saying - If that's what you're getting at, its not happening."

"That wasn't what I was getting at," Meklavar said, after a pause. She held her hands out to the fire so she had something else to look at. "But if you want to change your mind-"

"I won't."

"Don't-"

"Mek," Pike pulled away from the fire then, a small smile on his lips. He looked right at her, his eyes drilling holes into her own. "Don't worry about it. Have you ever known me to offer to do something I didn't want to do?"

"No." Meklavar said, voice quiet.

"Then its not an issue," He said, as he stood up in one graceful move. "I'm going to bed. Don't be too loud when you come in."

He ducked into the tent, letting the flap fall carelessly, the air making the fire flicker. Meklavar stayed out a little longer, wondering if she'd even be able to get to sleep next to him. She hoped so. She'd be completely useless for the whole trip if she couldn't even manage to sleep.

With a sigh, she poured water onto the fire, and followed Pike into the tent.

\-----

She shouldn't have been surprised, really, when she woke up to find herself wound around Pike. She'd all but abandoned their shared furs, leaving them scattered all around the tent, her face pressed firmly into his shoulder. She allowed herself a moment - just one moment - to feel his heat and breathe in his warm scent, but just before she was about to pull back Pike raised a hand, and placed it on her wrist, his thumb rubbing very small circles into her skin.

"You're awake now?" He asked, and his voice was free of any early-morning raspiness. Meklavar wondered how long he'd been awake.

"Sorry," She said, as she unwound her arm from around his middle. Her voice, on the other hand, was nothing but rasp. Her mouth was dry and stuffy, and she hoped she hadn't snored, or worse, drooled on him.

"S'alright," He said quietly, as Meklavar sat up, putting as much distance between them as she could without looking suspicious. "Hey, how about we catch something for breakfast?"

"Don't we have bread?" Meklavar asked, and Pike wrinkled his nose.

"We do," He started. "But I'm feeling a little, y'know, cramped what with all that sitting around yesterday."

"I don't have anything to hunt with." Meklavar said, and Pike sighed.

"Okay then, I'll get something for us to eat, and you start a fire ready to cook it."

"Won't that just burn through our firewood?" Meklavar asked, even as Pike sprung up, excited to be moving around.

"Ye of little faith. I'm a better hunter than you think." He said, with a bright smile.

"Really?" Meklavar said, looking up at him with a purposeful grin. "I bet you won't find anything."

"You don't have anything to bet with." Pike said, one brow raised. It was a low blow, though he wasn't technically wrong. Meklavar had never been one to back down from a challenge, though.

"One favour, no questions asked."

"Well, if you insist," He said, and Meklavar almost regretted the wager when his lips pulled up at the sides and she could see his teeth. But he had left the tent only a second later, apparently in a rush.

So, Meklavar went out into the morning air and began to place new firewood in the fire pit they'd made, wishing - not for the first time - that she had fire magic. Pike really wasn't gone for long. She was only halfway through actually lighting the fire that he returned with two dead rabbits in his hands.

"Looks like you owe me a favour," He said, as he placed the rabbits down in front of her. Begrudgingly, she shook his hand and sealed her fate. They ate breakfast together (which was frustratingly delicious) and then they were off, Rover taking them further into the forest. Pike insisted on guiding them this time, and it had taken a while of Meklavar convincing him before he begrudgingly used the map.

"We'll ask for help once we find a town." She'd said, and he'd grunted unhappily at her in response. The day was fairly uneventful. They went until nightfall, Pike growing more and more irritated. Meklavar couldn't tell why, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact they were looking for a complete stranger using a functionally useless map.

"This is stupid." He said, for the fiftieth time that day. "We can turn back now, Mek, you know that. We can find another solution." But Meklavar refused. This was the only way she knew to be free of the curse, and she was going to take it. She couldn't be in pain everytime she was around Pike. She couldn't. She refused. It was this, or she had to cut contact with him.

So, they kept going, Meklavar fisting her hands into Pike's cloak and ignoring his grumbling, until the moon started to peek over the horizon and they had to stop and set up their tent.

"I hope we find a river or something in the morning," Pike yawned, voice heavy, as they both lay in the quiet and tried to sleep. "I really don't want to start stinking."

"You don't," Meklavar reassured him. "Or, if you do, I can't smell it."

"Thanks." Pike said in monotone, and then promptly fell asleep.

\-----

"Oh!" Pike shouted, his whole body jumping. Meklavar could feel it against her back as his arm came up to point into the distance. "A building!"

It was late afternoon, just about to be evening, and the sun was beginning its descent. Meklavar had given up hope of seeing somewhere to stay that night, instead resigning herself to spending another night in the tent. Which wasn't a problem, except that both her and Pike were beginning to stink.

"A building?" Meklavar asked, looking in the direction he was pointing. She was much shorter than him, and she couldn't see anything except more trees. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Said Pike, and she could hear the grin in his voice. "I can see the top of it."

"There's no guarantee they'll let us stay." Said Meklavar.

"Don't ruin this for me," Pike grumbled. Meklavar felt him tighten his hands around her waist and decided to keep her mouth shut. Slowly, they made their way toward the building, the trees finally clearing so Meklavar could see it too - a small inn by the side of the trail, probably there specifically for travellers. There were all sorts of people milling around it, all mutually ignoring each other. Pike was growing more excited and agitated by the minute. He was practically bouncing by the time they dismounted.

"Not that I'm not enjoying camping with you, Meklavar," He started as Meklavar jumped off Rover's back. "But nothing beats sleeping in a bed."

"No, I get it." She said, handing him the reigns. She was excited about sleeping in a real room too - and she hoped there was a bathhouse or something nearby.

Together, they walked into the building, and were both immediately hit by its warmth. There was an open, popping fire in a hearth on the fire wall. It was a simple building, populated by tables and chairs with a few, tired-looking travellers slumped over them, and a set of rickety wooden stairs leading to another floor, where Meklavar assumed the rooms were. There was also a small bar, manned by a bored-looking woman.

A few people looked up as they walked in, their attention caught by the chiming of the bell, but when it turned out to be no one important, they went back to ignoring them. Except one person, Meklavar noticed. One younger man near the very back watched Pike cross the room, a strange expression on his face.

"Well, hello there," Pike said, as the two of them reached the bar, and Meklavar looked over and tried not to roll her eyes. The barmaid was tall, with bright green eyes and golden skin, and she looked over at Pike with a smile.

"You wouldn't happen to have any rooms free?" He asked, leaning over the bar towards her. Meklavar couldn't see his face, but she imagined he was hitting her with that lovely crooked smile. She felt sick. "And maybe a place we can bathe?"

"We do indeed," The barmaid said, and Meklavar watched as she swept her eyes over Pike's torso. "It's fifty for a room for the night. There's a private bathtub in every room, if you want it filled you just come and ask me."

The way she was looking at him made Meklavar think _she_ was the one that wanted something filled. Meklavar watched as the barmaid pressed her fingers to the exposed skin of Pike's wrist, and her whole body went cold. She lurched forward, clutching her chest, as an ice cold sensation flooded through her. She couldn't help the strangled gasp that was wrenched from her as pain laced through her torso, and she was numb to everything else.

When the pain faded, she found herself being gripped by the arms, claws digging into her flesh. Her head snapped up, and she saw Pike's worried eyes, wide and frowning.

"Are you okay?" He asked, eyes searching her face. Meklavar nodded, shivering. She was freezing, out of nowhere.

"What happened?" Another voice sounded, and Meklavar looked up to see the barmaid approaching, looking just as worried.

"Just feeling a little sick," Meklavar said, her voice wobbly. Pike's hands gripped her harder before he let go, standing to face the barmaid again.

"We'll take that room," He said. "I think she needs to lie down."

"Oh," The barmaid said, and Meklavar ground her teeth at how disappointed she sounded. "Right. Hold on, I'll just get you the key."

Pike helped her up by sliding a hand around her back, resting under her armpits, and though she could walk, she leant against him anyway.

The barmaid didn't take long before she was coming back with the key, sending worried glances Meklavar's way. She told them where the room was and they made their way up the stairs, Pike's hand a firm presence on Meklavar's lower back the whole time. She couldn't decide whether it was exciting or humiliating.

Once Pike had them up there, he left to get their things, leaving her in the room by herself. There was a part of her that wanted to sleep in the tent, who didn't want to be around for any of it, if only to avoid seeing him with that barmaid again. But there was a much bigger, much more jealous part of her that refused to leave. It may not have been fair, but if she could stop Pike sleeping with anyone else, she would.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he came into the room, loaded with all the things they'd need for the night. He pulled Meklavar's borrowed nightgown from the bag and handed it to her. But then, with no shame at all, nor any thought to her being in the room with him, he started to strip off his clothes.

"I-" Meklavar started, just as he started to pull his loose shirt up over his head. "I'm better now."

"What happened down there?" He asked, and it took Meklavar a little too long to answer, distracted as she was. She snapped out of it when he caught her eye, one brow raised and a smug little smile on his face. With a choked-off gasp, Meklavar stood and turned her back to Pike, facing the wall instead.

"I'm not sure," She said, and she cleared her throat when her voice came out just slightly breathless. "Just some pain. Maybe I'm just tired."

"Maybe you should lie down." Pike suggested, and Meklavar could hear the rustling of fabric as he got changed.

"I will do," She said, as she picked up the nightdress. "I just need to, y’know," She waved the fabric around in her hand, hoping Pike was watching.

"You can just get changed, you know," He said, with a laugh. "I won't look."

"Weren't we supposed to be having a bath?" Meklavar asked. The wash tub was nestled in the corner, and Meklavar imagined sitting in it, soaking in hot water up to her chin. She began to undo the front ties of her travel dress, shedding the stays and the top layer and letting her chest breathe. The dress was borrowed from one of Pike's sisters, and was just a little too big for her. Where on Rahael, it would have hugged her figure, on Meklavar it almost hid hers.

"I've asked her to come up in the morning," Pike said. "I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed again tonight. Though, I suppose I can go and get her-"

"Morning's fine," Meklavar said quickly. The rustling of fabric had stopped, and Meklavar turned to see Pike in clean night clothes - a loose, thin linen shirt and loose pants that needed to be held up by string.

"What's that?" Pike asked, frowning at her. At her chest, more specifically.

"What, did your mother not tell you about-" Meklavar started joking, but Pike shook his head and cut her off.

"No, that wasn't there last night." He said, and with a frown Meklavar walked up to the mirror mounted into the wall. And there, almost hidden under the low hem of the dress, were black tendrils creeping up over the neckline.

With a gasp, she pulled the hem down, modesty be damned, and looked at herself. There was a black mark in the centre of her chest, between her breasts. An ornate, winding pattern, like the roots of trees, that had spread out in all directions, like veins. Meklavar brought up a hand to touch it and it was ice cold.

In the mirror, Pike moved closer, but Meklavar only barely noticed him.

"That's a curse mark," He said, next to her. Meklavar didn't look away from the tangled mess on her chest. "But-"

He cut himself off, and when Meklavar looked up at him he could see him frowning at her reflection.

"But a curse mark on your chest means-"

Then, he took a step back from the mirror, and Meklavar turned around to watch him. He was staring at her with his eyes narrowed, one brow raised while the other was furrowed. He looked so utterly confused.

"Pike-" Meklavar started.

"Who is he?" Pike asked, and Meklavar stopped short.

"Who is who?" She asked.

"A curse mark on your chest means you got hit with a love curse." He said, and Meklavar froze.

"How do you know that?" She asked, and Pike swallowed, his throat bobbing, before he spoke again.

"Mek, if that's getting worse-"

"It might not be," She said. "It might just-"

"Who is he?" Pike asked again.

"It doesn't matter," Meklavar said, turning back to the mirror because she couldn't look at the tight, closed-off expression on his face anymore. "It'll be gone soon, anyway."

"But-"

"You _promised_ you wouldn't ask." Meklavar said, injecting ice into her voice. Behind her, Pike was quiet, and Meklavar kept her gaze firmly in the mirror, refusing to look at him. His reflection moved, and in the quiet of the room the door slamming sounded like cannonfire. When she turned around to look, he was gone.


End file.
